


Dressed for the Occasion

by GhoulsOnMyBike



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Awkwardness, Chance Meetings, M/M, Netflix and Chill, Pre-Slash, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhoulsOnMyBike/pseuds/GhoulsOnMyBike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s early in the morning. Person A has got up early to go for a run. Person B has stayed up all night watching Netflix. What happens when Person B runs out of snacks and bumps into Person A at the corner shop?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dressed for the Occasion

**Author's Note:**

> You ever have that one person that you want to only see you at your best; well, sometimes they see you at your worst. Just ask Eggsy. 
> 
> Sometimes I imagine Eggsy is super seductive but other times I like to imagine that, when he's around Harry, he's super awkward.

Eggsy wouldn’t say that he has the perfect life. He’s got a nice house for his mum and little sister, a job with benefits that go way beyond just the amazing pay, and Dean is out of his life for good; but the price of all this is that he is often risking his life, he has to hide a lot from his mother and friends, and doesn’t get to see his family as often as he’d like. Eggsy thrives in dangerous situations though, and absence certainly makes the heart grow fonder; so no, Eggsy doesn’t have the perfect life, but it’s pretty damn close.

That’s what he’s thinking of as shuts off the shower and steps out. He wraps a towel around his waist and wipes the fog from the mirror; smiling at his own reflection. The expression stings, irritating a split lip and bruised jaw, but that only serves to remind him of a job well done; another big bad brought down to keep the world as safe as possible for Daisy. He is a hero; no point in being modest about it. The rest of the world will never know, so here, in the privacy of his own tiny apartment; he’ll admit it to himself. The bumps and bruises, the ache that he feels all the way down to his bones, are all so people around the world can go about their day, oblivious to the threats against them.

Eggsy dries himself off and dresses in sweats, he’s on leave for a few days and fully plans on putting off the paperwork he has to do for his most recent mission until the last possible moment. For now, he’s going to relax.

Shuffling to the kitchen for a snack, he sends a text to Roxy to see if she would like to join him for a Netflix marathon. Her response his almost immediate, as usual.

_Sorry Eggs, visiting parents. Drinks on Tuesday?_

Distantly, he remembers her saying something about that before he left for Australia, but it’s a little hazy. _Sure thing, Rox. See ya then._

So, a quiet night alone it is then. That’s fine with him; as a Kingsman, he’s grown accustomed to having a handler’s voice in his ears, knowing that they can experience every moment with him through the feed of his glasses. Before that, he shared a dorm with multiple others; a dorm that had no sort of curtain or door to hide the showers and toilets from view. Yes, alone time is something to be cherished.

And Eggsy uses that alone time to get sucked into the black hole known as Netflix. Episode after episode, he finally gets to start ‘The Walking Dead’; Jamal has been trying to get him to watch it for the longest time. One would assume that Eggsy sees enough violence and blood in his line of work; but he’s always has a thing for zombie films and it doesn’t take long for him to get hooked.

The sun was just setting when he began his little marathon, and it is rising when he finally pulls himself away. The living room is filled with the hazy gray light of early morning. Eggsy sits up and yawns; he’ll go to bed soon, really, he will. He just wants to finish _a few_ more episodes, no big deal, right? There’s an empty bowl of popcorn on the table and a few candy bar wrappers; nothing within reach to nibble on while the next episode plays.

Reluctantly Eggsy gets up and goes to the kitchen, feeling hardly more than a walker himself. He curses when he can’t find the pop tarts, searching for anything that will save him from actually having to cook. He finds nothing.  For a while, he actually considers making a proper breakfast, staring at the stove and wonder to himself if maybe – just maybe- it would somehow make him something to eat itself. No such luck, of course.

Deciding that it really isn’t worth it after all, Eggsy slips on some a jacket and steps into his shoes. Later he’ll wonder why he thought going out was less effort than just throwing something on the stove, but for now, he trudges down the empty sidewalk to the tiny market on the corner.

The city is just waking up; Eggsy can hear the distant sounds of traffic and birds are starting to sing. A woman steps out onto her stoop, a briefcase in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other but both are set down on the landing when a little girl in Spiderman pajamas pops out of the house. The woman scoops the girl up and presses kisses all over her face, the two of them laugh and the little girl says something; but Eggsy can’t make it out. It sends a warm feeling through his chest to see though, reminds him of mum and Daisy across town and the way they’ll be starting their day soon. Daisy will go off to the sitter and Michelle would head the school where she is working as a substitute teacher; finally getting back to teaching now that Dean is out of her life.

They won’t be afraid. They won’t be going hungry. Michelle will look into the mirror with a smile because there won’t be any bruises to hide.

It makes Eggsy proud; driving out a bit of the shame from staying up all night, very nearly growing into the couch. He deserves a break, doesn’t he?

Soon enough, he’s walking the aisles of the local convenience store. The shelves are lined with all sorts of snacks, both sweet and savory, but in the end Eggsy just ends up shoving a few things in his basket without paying much attention to what he’s reaching for.

The elderly woman behind the counter is much too cheery considering the early hour. She smiles and greets Eggsy like she’s known him forever, attempting to engage him in small talk. She’s different from the flirtatious, borderline crude, young man who runs the shop in the evenings. Eggsy makes a mental note to start changing up his shopping routine.

He pays, waves, and then is out the door with two plastic bags weighing heavy in his hands.

Only to collide with someone else.

The bags fall from Eggsy hand, spilling packages of processed food across the sidewalk. He stumbles over an apology, crouching down to gather his items.

Some spy he is.

“Eggsy.”

Well – that certainly makes an embarrassing situation worse, doesn’t it? Eggsy knows that voice, he hears it nearly every day; more than once it’s been the subject of his dreams as well.

“Morning, Harry.” Eggsy doesn’t want to look up.

But he does. It’s poor manners not to look at someone when you greet them.

It is entirely unfair that Harry Hart can make casual clothes look so good. Eggsy very nearly groans out loud at the way Harry’s black t-shirt clings ever so slightly to his shoulders. His hair is disheveled and darker at the temples, damp with sweat. If he is tempting in his suit, glasses perched on his nose and umbrella in hand, then like this – well, he is positively sinful. Eggsy is suddenly all too aware of what he looks like as he stands upright; sweats a hanging loose around him, dark circles underneath his eyes, mustard stain on his shirt.

_Great._

“What are you doing out and about so early in the morning?” It’s a stupid question but Eggsy has to fill the silence with something.

Harry cocks and eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitch as he obviously attempts to conceal a smirk, “I find it relaxing to jog a few blocks every morning. There is the gym at Kingsman, of course, but I find it is much better to be out where I can appreciate the crisp morning air. Weather permitting, that is.”

The pair starts walking in the direction of Eggsy’s building, falling into step easily as they have so many times before.

“I was going over the footage from your last mission. You did well; but I see you have yet to submit your report.”

Eggsy groans. That damn report. “Yeah, I’ll get ‘round to it. Just got back yesterday, needed to unwind a little.”

“Typically agents want to get their reports finished as soon as possible. ‘Get it out of the way’, as it were.” Harry chuckles, “I do understand though. As Arthur, I find that the amount of paperwork I am charged with can be – overwhelming, to say the least. I certainly was not meant to be shackled to a desk.”

“Do you regret it then; accepting the position, I mean?”

The sun has risen a little further on the horizon now, the hazy gray starting to fade into a multihued blend of colors. For what it’s worth, Eggsy does try his best to not notice the way the light seems to suit Harry so well. He fails miserable though, glancing up out of the corner of his eyes in a way that he desperately hopes is subtle. It probably isn’t.

Harry seems to be turning the question over in his mind, searching for the right words to say.

“I would not go so far as to say I regret becoming Arthur.” Harry replies finally, “I was getting a little old for the job anyway. Nothing can quite compare though, can it? The thrill of successfully completing a mission, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you make a narrow escape. It certainly is a rush, one that I will miss for the rest of my days.”

Eggsy can understand that. It’s something every agent feels, the need to be back out in the field; the need to something – anything. The space between missions is always a time of restlessness, an energy builds that the agents feel all the way down to their bones. In a way, it’s like an addiction. While no one wants to die on the job, many would consider it preferable to go out with a bang than to never be able to feel that rush again. Eggsy has to wonder if Harry was one of those people – if in his younger days he dreamed of going out in a blaze of glory, but he knew better than to ask.

They continue their walk in silence; only breaking the peace when they come to Eggsy’s building.

“Eggsy, my boy, I hope I am not overstepping my bounds by asking but-” Here Harry pauses, waving a hand to indicated the younger man’s appearance, “Are you quite alright? You seem exhausted.”

It takes a moment for Harry’s meaning to spark in Eggsy mind but by then, he was already speaking again, “Kingsman has well trained professionals that would be willing to speak to you whenever you need. It is nothing to be ashamed of and, of course, you always have me. If you’re having trouble sleeping, I’d be happy to arrange a meeting between you and one of the doctors.”

A small, embarrassed smile creeps across Eggsy’s face unwittingly, “I’m alright. Really, Harry. I did have a long night but that’s my own fault. Netflix, y’know, can be addictive.”

“Ah. The offer stands, regardless.”

A pause.

“Harry, would you like to come in?”

“I-“

Eggsy cuts him off, “Unless you’re busy with the – uh, running thing. I mean I get if you don’t want to – that’s fine, really. Just mean that Netflix is the best when you’re watchin’ with someone else is all and you’re- you-”

He’s going to continue but Harry shakes his head, “I would love to join you Eggsy. What shall we watch?”


End file.
